


if you're so inclined

by demotu



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, June smutfest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demotu/pseuds/demotu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nice boner," Patrick says, shifting his feet a little wider so he’s leaning closer to Jonny.<br/>Jonny’s already red, but he stills at the top of his rep to glare at Patrick. “Oh—for real?” he says. “It’s just—fuck, you know. Shorts, man.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you're so inclined

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sorrylatenew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorrylatenew/gifts).



> Sorrylatenew prompted me with "Kane/Toews - 15. trying to distract the other with sex while they’re “busy”" from the [June smutfest prompt list](http://demotu.tumblr.com/post/88711829506/new-improved-porny-prompt-list), and with much inspiration from [the4freedoms'](http://the4freedoms.tumblr.com) tales of high school lift practice, this was my fill. Already up on tumblr, just fulfilling my promise to archive anything remotely complete on AO3. :)

~

"Would you quit it, asshole?"

Patrick grins from his seat on the flat bench next to Jonny’s. “Quit what?”

"Quit  _staring_ ,” Jonny grunts out between reps, hands locked behind his neck as he curls up the inclined bench. “Don’t you have your own work-out to be doing?”

"Finished it," Patrick says, leaning forward, elbows on knees. Jonny turns his head, a little awkwardly since he doesn’t slow down on his reps, and gives him what can only be described as a  _skeptical glare_. This dude’s face, seriously. ”Hey, that’s what happens when you actually get up and get going at a decent hour, Captain.”

"Fuck off," Jonny says, turning his gaze back to the ceiling.  

Patrick’s mouth quirks up with a grin, and his eyes slide down—or up—Jonny’s chest, past where his shirt has rucked up, exposing his flexing abs, to his loose, mesh shorts. They’re bunched up his thighs, too, pressed thick and firm into the bench, but it’s his dick that Patrick’s really watching. It’s not all the way hard, but gravity has helped push it up against Jonny’s hip, and it’s been swelling up under the friction of Jonny’s shorts for the couple minutes Patrick’s been watching. Every time Jonny stretches flat out on his back, his shorts pull tight over the bulge of it. It’s kind of hypnotic. 

"Nice boner," Patrick says, shifting his feet a little wider so he’s leaning closer to Jonny. 

Jonny’s already red, but he stills at the top of his rep to glare at Patrick. “Oh—for real?” he says. “It’s just—fuck, you know. Shorts, man.”

Patrick  _does_  know. There’s something about the slick slide and pull of workout shorts against your cock that makes for insta-erections. He’s seen it on dozens of dudes, politely ignored it when spotting or swapping out on a bench. He’s definitely expected everyone else to ignore  _his_ awkward nylon-induced public hard-ons. But those guys weren’t Jonny, and this is his private gym in his own home in Buffalo, and if he wants to look, well. Nobody’s gonna stop him.

Jonny seems to think he can, though, at least with the power of his disapproving frown. Patrick grins back sunnily, not moving from where he’s sitting, and Jonny rolls his eyes and goes back to work, all business. Jonny takes his own fitness more seriously than every other guy on the Hawks, and probably half the training staff (which really, is more impressive, given how many of the guys are content to do what they’re told and not think about it otherwise). 

Unfortunately for Jonny, he’s also got a thing for being  _watched_ , and the semi that had been resting against hip is now a full-on boner, distorting the fabric and pushing up towards his belly. 

"Mm, hot," Patrick says, low and appreciative, and Jonny’s face might be too flushed to get any pinker, but the way it’s traveling along his neck to the collar of his shirt is all arousal. It’s permission enough to reach out and slide the ball of his thumb along the exposed skin of Jonny’s ribs, curving up and around to press at the slick, working muscle above his belly-button.

"Patrick, for fuck’s sake, will you let me finish?" Jonny grits out, bunched muscles jumping under Patrick’s touch.

"Eh," Patrick says, flattening his palm across Jonny’s stomach and pushing down. "You’re good for now."

Jonny collapses back, hands unlinking from behind his head, but he just lets them fall beside him, breathing hard. “You’re a dick.” His voice jumps up satisfyingly as Patrick slides his hand down and strokes lightly over the straining line of his dick. Jonny makes a low noise and tries to flex his hips up, but with his ankles locked and his thighs pressed flat, he doesn’t have much leverage. Patrick trails his fingers over the slick fabric, up and down in a tickling stroke.

"And a cocktease," Jonny adds after a moment.

"You like it," Patrick says confidently. Jonny rolls his eyes but when he brings his hands up, it’s to clench at the side of the bench. Patrick grins and rewards him with by standing up, hip pressed to the edge of the bench beside Jonny’s knees, and curling his fingers around Jonny’s cock. He squeezes tight, thumb pressed firmly against the head.

"Yeah, c’mon," Jonny urges, hips flexing. Patrick leans over his legs, pressing his forearm down against Jonny’s thighs so he can’t move.

"I thought you were busy," Patrick says drily, still just holding on to Jonny’s hot, hard dick. "I mean, I can wait til you’re done."

"You’re not even funny," Jonny says, just as dry, and Patrick jumps as Jonny’s hand slides up between his legs to find Patrick’s own cock, caught thickly between his thigh and leggings. "Move," Jonny orders.

Patrick licks his lips and grins and keeps his eyes fixed on Jonny’s red face while he peels back Jonny’s shorts, getting his other hand up to tug them down Jonny’s thighs. Jonny helps, lifting his ass enough to bare it, and then nearly sacks him when Patrick leans in and sucks the head of Jonny’s dick between his lips.

"Fuck!" Jonny says, pulling his hand out from between Patrick’s leg. "Fu—sorry."

"Mmph," says Patrick, mouth full of cock. He gives Jonny a disapproving look, but gets distracted by the musk of Jonny’s dick, a little sweaty and a lot leaking around the head. He slides his tongue under the foreskin, chasing the taste. Jonny groans and trembles, thighs tensing as Patrick slides the fingers of one hand up the soft skin of Jonny’s inner thighs. Jonny spreads, as much as he can without letting go of the foothold, and Patrick worms his way up until he can press his knuckles behind Jonny’s balls, his ring finger sliding back to touch lightly at Jonny’s hole.

"Go-ood," Jonny groans, hand finding Patrick’s hip this time. He groans deeper when Patrick pushes down to take more of his cock in his mouth. "Fuck, I’m gonna—"

Patrick pulls off with a pop, and Jonny’s dick slaps wetly up along his stomach. “Already?”

"What?" Jonny says defiantly. "You got a problem with— _shit_ ,” Jonny gasps when Patrick pushes the finger playing against Jonny’s rim inside, a dry slide that’s gonna hurt more than arouse. “Careful, fuck.”

"That’s it," Patrick says soothingly. "Just wanna feel you come, s’all."

Jonny groans and throws his free arm over his face. Patrick pulls his dick back up to his mouth, and presses his lips in a tight circle, just under the head. Jonny comes faster than it takes for Patrick’s lips to go numb, working a slick, hard pressure over the flare of Jonny’s cock. The taste of it, blooming shallow in his mouth, and the pulse of Jonny’s ass around the tip of his finger, makes Patrick groan and shake.

When Jonny pushes weakly at his head, smoothing his curls back off his forehead, Patrick pulls off and out and falls back to the flat bench, breathing hard like he’s just finished a set, or come himself. Jonny’s panting, fists clenching by his side before he lifts his hips and drags his shorts—those fucking  _shorts_ —back up over his ass and hips and spent, shiny cock.

"My turn?" Patrick asks, leaning back on his palms and spreading his legs. Jonny twists his head, gaze dropping to Patrick’s fat erection.

"You should fuck my face," Jonny says, and Patrick’s dick leaps.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, like this," Jonny says, gesturing behind him. It takes Patrick a moment to get it, frown curving his lips down in confusion before his mouth goes round in surprise.

"Oh," he says, so rough it’s just a rasp of sound. He clears his throat and stands back up, circling around to stand behind Jonny’s head. Jonny’s hands come up to peel down his leggings off and bare his dick. "Like this?" Patrick asks, bracing a hand beside Jonny’s hip and pressing his dick to Jonny’s lips.

The angle’s a little weird, but holy shit is that not gonna matter. Patrick breathes out shakily as Jonny’s tongue draws a circle on the head of his dick. The long, flushed expanse Jonny’s throat stretches out as he leans back to take it. Patrick trails his fingers up it to cup Jonny's jaw.

"Yeah Patrick," Jonny says, soft and fucked-out and sweet. "Like this."

~

**Author's Note:**

> I tumblr and fic under [the same pseud](http://demotu.tumblr.com)!


End file.
